


The Responsibilities of a Combat Maid

by SleepyEspurr



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Body Guard, F/M, Maid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 08:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20132683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyEspurr/pseuds/SleepyEspurr
Summary: After a violent attack on the son of a millionaire leaves him scarred and paranoid, his father hires the service of a body guard to watch over him. However, her services cover far more than simply protecting him from danger…//Based off of a silly idea between myself and an rp partner please no steppy,,//





	The Responsibilities of a Combat Maid

**Author's Note:**

> HHHH I'm still not super used to posting things that are blatantly OC/Canon... not the most popular or well-liked characters, I know, but I still had fun writing this and all I can hope is anyone that takes the time to read enjoys it as well!

At first, he believed the pounding was coming from his own head, causing him to wearily open his eyes. Without much thought, a hand came up to shield his vision, the sun streaming in through his windows far too brightly and vividly. The man let out a grunt as he forced himself to sit up, using his free hand to clumsily fumble across the small table next to his bed. Fingers wandered over a pen, an empty whiskey glass, an alarm clock, nearly knocking all three onto the ground, before finally landing on his item of choice. 

He allowed his other hand to fall, eyes mostly having adjusted to the daylight now, and let it join his other as he brought the odd leather mask towards himself, making a few small adjustments before sliding it over his mess of lavender hair. Even after a few months of wearing the damned thing, it was a chore to get it to comply with him. There were days where he wondered if it was worth the effort, but as a finger slid over the deep, rigid scar tissue lining his jaw, he scowled and went back to fiddling with the leather.

In the time it had taken his odd accessory to look presentable, he had realized the pounding hadn’t stopped. In fact, now with his senses beginning to focus, he could hear something else along with the sound. A voice. It was muffled to the point of being completely unidentifiable, but a voice for certain. It was with great dread that he realized someone was knocking at his door, and judging by how long the tapping had gone on for, they had no intention of leaving until someone answered. He heavily considered continuing to ignore them, trying to get a bit more rest, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to block out the insistent sound that now seemed to echo through his room. Besides, his mask was already on.

Swearing under his breath, he slowly brought himself to standing, his sheets falling lazily around him, pooling halfway off the bed as he took sluggish steps towards his bedroom door. He yawned loudly as he crossed the entryway, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, and made his way down the small corridor, several framed portraits lining the walls, all of which went ignored by him. He stopped at the landing that overlooked his entrance, leaning an arm on the finely polished wood that made up the banisters. Listening a bit more closely now, he raised an eyebrow. It was still too muted to form a sentence, but now he could hear it was on a higher pitch, and completely foreign to him. Another reason to not answer at all, he thought. But again, he simply sighed and made his way down the staircase. He would have almost been impressed by how willing they were to stay at his doorway, waiting for a response, if he weren’t already so thoroughly annoyed with whoever was causing the disturbance. 

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had worked himself up from the level of “minor annoyance” to “nearly irate”. Despite not having the migraine he had first feared when he awoke, there was still a low throb behind his temples that the pestering noise from the outside world was certainly not helping. After a few more steps, still slow, but with more confidence than before, he reached the front door, an ornate piece of lumber, painted pearly white and framed by a brightly shining gold finish. His hands fumbled with the three separate chain locks affixed to the frame, something he now cursed as they deterred his efforts to send whoever was on the other side off and away from his house. Finally unlatching the last of the locks and turning the handle to his door, he pulled the door open with a dramatic force, glaring straight forward at the intruder.

“What?” He spat out as soon as he opened the door. His expression of anger faltered for just a moment into one of confusion as he realized he wasn’t looking back at a person. Well, not their face anyway, but rather what he quickly realized was the chest of a woman. A very tall woman. His eyes scanned up, head tilting slightly, and met her face. Her purple eyes instantly locked with his own. Her expression was one of surprise, bordering on a sense of curiosity and childish wonder. When she didn’t respond, he cocked his head, leaning his body forward a bit.

“Well? Out with it already. You’re wasting my time AND trespassing, you know.” This seemed to snap her out of whatever odd stupor she had been in just a moment before. 

“Yes, of course.” She stated in a voice louder than what the man would have wished for, before taking a step back. With the added distance of a foot, he could now see the odd attire she was wearing more clearly. What he originally thought to have been a long black dress revealed itself to be something more elaborate, a cream-colored apron tied around her waist to break up the dark fabric that seemed to cover nearly her entire body, the skirt of her outfit stopping only a few inches off of the ground to reveal just the tips of what appeared to be dark leather boots. Her hair, a rich blond color, was pinned back in some sort of braided bun, a headband that matched the black and cream colors of her skirts laid carefully atop her head. Before he could gather any more details on her appearance, the woman placed her hands, both adorned with leather worn gloves, on top of one another, carefully laying across the front of her long skirt.

“My name is Wendy. I’ve been sent from Enies District Keepers Academy to serve and protect master Spandam.” She ended the statement by grabbing the fabric of her skirt and carefully dipping down, offering a curtsy towards the man. As she finished, her head tilted toward him, smiling warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I promise to do my best.”

The sound of the front door slamming echoed through the empty house. 

He didn’t even bother threatening her with a call to the police, rather he hoped the sound of his several locks being refastened would be enough of a clue for the strange girl to leave. As Spandam stepped away, he could still see the shadow of her figure present through the frosted glass of the door. No matter, he thought, more than likely she was just a bit stunned. She’d eventually work up the sense to leave. He considered going to his kitchen and beginning his day in earnest, but the woman’s visit had put him in a decidedly unpleasant mood he was sure would carry on for a while. Instead, he grabbed the wooden railing of his staircase and began ascending back towards his bedroom. Sleep would be hard to achieve once again, but not impossible, and he had already convinced himself that he deserved a day of sleeping in anyways. Walking into his room, he used his foot to kick the door closed, arriving at the foot of his bed and clumsily falling down on top of his mattress. For a moment, he stayed like that, face pressed firmly into the comforter until he eventually had to turn to allow himself to breathe clearly. His eyes focused on one of the windows in his room and quietly he watched the outside world. He was at least somewhat relieved to realize the knocking and calling had ceased. Now he lay there, wondering how in the hell that strange woman had ended up on his doorstep, and with such confidence to boot. It could have been a prank, but who did he know that would be interested in pulling such an oddly specific scheme on him? Nobody. Perhaps she was simply some escaped lune? That was more likely than the first option, but still not an answer he was satisfied with. Her appearance was far too well kept, and she certainly didn’t act as though she was unhinged. His mind flashed back to the genuine warmth of the smile she had given him.

It was at that moment, Spandam realized that he didn’t much care about how or why she had ended up there. He simply cared that she was no longer going to be a nuisance to him, and with that reassuring thought, he turned away from the window and shut his eyes. He didn’t bother removing his mask this time.

Seemingly all too soon, he was brought back to consciousness by a pounding sound once again. Though this one was decidedly much more violent than the girl’s had been, and within a few seconds of being awake, he knew who was at the door.

It was his father.

The older man sat upright, arms crossed over his chest and one foot tapping on the ground with impatience. It was almost in complete contrast to Spandam’s current posture, who sat reclined in a couch directly in front of his father, only a few feet filled with a small inn table between the two, eyes wandering about in annoyance and disinterest. Spandine was, for all intents and purposes, the richest man on this side of the coast. Between stocks, a ruthless oil mining company, and some dirty money exchanged below the table, he had enough to not only allow himself a rather comfortable lifestyle, but to also cater to nearly any and every need of his only son, Spandam, who just so happened to have enough needs to keep him fairly preoccupied. 

Beside where Spandine sat, the odd, tall woman stood, her bright demeanor now replaced with a much more reserved, almost embarrassed look. Despite the grand size of the house, the current room that the three sat in was surprisingly intimate, a tea room of sorts, with a collection of chairs and loveseats surrounding small, circular tables meant for tea and sweets, but rarely used for something so innocent. Spandam didn’t go without noticing the abundance of chairs available to the woman, and how despite this, she remained standing. Her gaze remained on the floor as Spandam’s father cleared his throat.

“Wendy contacted me in quite a fuss earlier. Said you shut the door right in her face. Thought she had shown up to the wrong house.” He ended the statement with a snort, as if wanting to laugh but far too frustrated with the situation to properly do so.

“Well I didn’t ask for her, that’s for certain,” Spandam replied in a huff, scowl growing. “I don’t suppose this is your doing? What is she, some sorta themed escort? Definitely not my type.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl’s cheeks flush a dark red color, her lips pressed firmly together as she tried to remain unaffected by the comment. It was almost enough to make him chuckle.

“Aren’t you a comedian.” The elder responded curtly. He cocked his head towards the woman, not bothering to look at her. “This is your new maid. Paid a hell a lot of money for her services, so you’ll best be using them.” Spandam gave the man a somewhat accusatory look.

“Pfft, a maid? Please, I do well enough keeping this place clean on my own. Having someone else do it would just mess up all my organization. You’re wasting your money, old man.” At this, his father let out another snort, this time with some actual humor behind it.

“Now that’s where you’re wrong. You think I’d waste my money on just any old girl that knew how to hold a duster? Wendy here is a special kind of maid. Isn’t that right?” He questioned, now turning to face her as a signal for her to answer. She raised her head a bit.

“Oh, yes. As a part of the Enies District Keepers Academy, I’m specialized in com-”

“In combat training!” Spandine finished for her, turning back to his son with a grin. “Meaning she’s gonna help keep you out of trouble from now on.” Now Spandam sat up.

“She’s what?”

“You heard me.” Spandine reached into the pocket of his suit, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Wendy will be serving as your housekeeper and bodyguard. Though I can imagine she’ll be focusing more on the later.” Spandam’s expression darkened.

“So what? You’ve got me a babysitter? This is ridiculous. I’m a grown-ass man, I can take care of myself perfectly fine.” He hadn’t realized it, but now both of Spandam’s hands were gripping his knees as if he were about to spring forward.

“That mask of yours would say otherwise.”

Spandam didn’t respond. 

“That’s what I thought.” Spandine was no longer smiling, but his posture still held confidence in it, knowing he had won this conversation. “Now then. She’ll be expected to be in close quarters of you at all times, including while you’re here. So I’d recommend cleaning out one of your spare rooms.” Pushing one of the cigarettes out, he gripped it between his teeth, pulling it out and placing the pack back in his pocket.

The younger man remained silent, teeth clenched, before eventually speaking up.

“I told you no smoking in my house, old man.”

“I know, I know.” He said, bracing a hand on his knee before standing. “Lucky for you I was just getting ready to leave.” Spandine tucked a hand into his pocket as he looked over to his son. “I better not get any more calls from Wendy going forward. I’m trying to let you live your life and all that, but if you keep pushing it, I’ll just hire some heavy-duty guys and keep you locked up in here. Understand?” He raised an eyebrow with his question, waiting for a response. What he got was a grunt and a stern, “Fine.”

“Thatta boy.” He said, grin returning to his face. Without taking note of Wendy, he turned and began walking out of the tea room and into the foyer of the house, giving a wave above his head. “Play nice. I’ll keep in touch.” Once his father was out of sight, it took another moment to hear the front door open and shut, followed by complete silence.

Spandam was furious, nearly hysterical. His father had a tendency to spring surprises on him every now and then, but this? Unfathomable. An insult, plain and simple. His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Wendy stepping forward. His eyes, wild and dark, immediately sprang to her face. She seemed taken aback by the intensity of his glare, but still, she spoke.

“I’m… sorry that we couldn’t meet on better terms. I thought you knew about the arrangement as well.” There was still a hint of nervousness in her posture, but still, she managed to pull together a smile, not nearly as bright as it had been this morning, but just as genuine. “Even if the situation isn’t ideal, I promise to do my best to serve you, so let’s-” Spandam was up and moving in an instant, taking fast strides towards the woman. For a moment, Wendy’s body tensed, one foot stepping back and preparing for some sort of defense, no doubt. All of which was unnecessary as Spandam simply passed right by her, not bothering to speak or even look at her as he made his way through the foyer, up the stairs, and into his room, slamming the door behind him for emphasis. 

Ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous. He was certain she was still standing dumbfounded in the tea room, unsure of what to do or where to go. Fine. Let her be confused. It wasn’t any of his business. She’d eventually leave as night came, and if not on her own, he’d make her. 

But for now, it wasn’t his concern. He made his way to a wooden liquor cabinet by the wall, holding an assortment of glass bottles, most at least halfway empty, and grabbed an empty glass, pulling the first bottle his hand landed on out of the collection and twisting the top open, pouring himself a drink.

By the third drink, he had decided to forgo the glass entirely and drink from the bottle.

By the end of the bottle, he was in bed, sleep coming quickly, with his last conscious thought being a lingering image of the odd girl’s smile.


End file.
